


Seasick

by Cleokat



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Romance, Seasickness, happy birthday fuyu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleokat/pseuds/Cleokat
Summary: Fuyuhiko hates boats. He's pretty sure they hate him too.





	Seasick

Fuyuhiko feels the ship rock beneath his feet, and he craves solid ground. The sharp wind stings his face, and the salty smell makes his nose crinkle. He sighs, though, knowing that he can't really complain about where he is right now. After all, nearly anything is better then the horrible memories that haunt the island they've been living on for the past year.

However it may be, the unsteady rocking of the ship is still enough to cause bile to rise up in his throat, and he flees to the nearest bathroom clutching one hand over his mouth and one on his stomach.

When he's all done, he rests his chin on the toilet seat and bemoans his current state, crossing his fingers that no one walks in and catches him in a moment of weakness.

He's not as lucky as Nagito, and he curses the fact as the door swings open as he scrambled to position himself in a... less embarrassing pose.

It's all in vain, however. Peko Pekoyama slides in, her red eyes filled with confusion. Fuyuhiko curses, throws his gaze around, searching for something to fidget with until he finally gives up and sighs.

"...Hi."

She smiles a little bit, and he relaxed slightly.

"Young master," she says, and he scowls at the name, "Are you alright?"

"Don't call me that," he reminds her. "I'm fine, okay?"

She doesn't leave. Peko is persistent that way, and he appreciates that. Just not right now. Instead, she tears a paper towel from the nearby roll, wets it, and before he can realize what she's doing, she's wiping the corner of his mouth.

"Hey!" He waves her off, already feeling his cheeks heating up. He swipes his arm across mouth and checks in the mirror before looking at her again.

"What do you need?"

"I presumed you were going to get seasick," she admitted. "You always do." She turns her gaze to the ground and twists her hands together.

He wants to speak, say something about how he doesn't need help, but the brief look on his face convinces him not to. "I mean... yeah. You're probably right." Peko smiles in relief, then, and Fuyuhiko feels his breath hitch in his throat.

Then they're just standing there, two people in a bathroom staring at each other with conflicting emotions in their hearts. Neither says anything for about a minute until a sudden movement of the ship jerks them back to reality. Now they're both blushing, stuttering messes and Peko's whole face is aflame as she slides out of the bathroom.

Fuyuhiko takes a minute to process what's happening, and (still red in the face) he leaves also.

* * *

 She must know his routines very well because when he stumbles back into his cabin, there's a can of ginger ale and a package of crackers resting on his pillow.

"Peko dropped that off," Hinata informs him. Fuyuhiko's current roommate stares at him over the top of his book, and Fuyuhiko is a little bit disconcerted by the two different eye colors. (Not that there's anything wrong with red eyes) "She also wants me to tell you to meet her on the bow of the ship at five?"

"Thanks, Hinata." The man nods and returns to paging through the novel, while Fuyuhiko sighs and sits down on his bed, finishing off his ginger ale and crackers before laying down and pulling the covers over his head as he tries to fall asleep.

(He'll blame it on the waves, but he really can't sleep because his head is plagued with imaginary situations all featuring a silver-haired woman.)

* * *

He wakes up two minutes before five, and he panics. His suit is all rumpled and his eyepatch is askew.

"Frick." Several more _expressive_ curses spill from his mouth as he tries to adjust everything at the same time while running from the room. He passes several people on the way, a sour-faced Mahiru, Ibuki who yells a cheerful hello, and Souda and his piss-yellow eyesore of a jumpsuit that only makes him run faster.

Distractions aren't what he needs right now.

When he hits the deck, he's positive he's a sweaty, out-of-breath mess, but Peko smiles at him nonetheless.

"You made it," she notes.

"Yeah, of course. What'd you think I would do?" She looks slightly abashed at this, but moves so she's leaning against the railing overlooking the sea.

"Indeed. Apologies for doubting you, youn-"

"Fuyuhiko, remember?"

"Fuyuhiko-san."

"...Sure." He shoves his hands in his pockets and leans his back against the railing, glancing over his shoulder at the water. The sun is lowering now. "What'd you want to meet me here for?"

Peko doesn't answer in favor of sliding her sword bag off her back and drawing something from it that is decidedly not a sword, but instead a bag of karintou. His eyes go wide at the sight of his favorite food.

"Happy birthday, Fuyuhiko-san," she mumbles, pressing the bag into his hand. It's still warm, but it doesn't really register.

"Birthday?"

"Is it not your birthday? August 16th?" She's right. He hasn't been keeping track of the days very closely, so he must have forgotten.

"It is. Where'd you get this? I haven't had this in ages." Unconsciously his hands are already unknotting the ribbon around the top of the bag, but his eyes are trained on her.

"I actually got Teruteru to teach me." His face must have scrunched up at the mention of the squat chef, because she immediately pauses. "It's alright. He didn't say much, actually."

He's disbelieving, but he doesn't comment. "So, you really remembered..."

"Of course." She tilts her head to the side, and light catches in her glasses.

Suddenly she's not there anymore. Suddenly there's a person with a side ponytail and an unbuttoned white suit coat. Suddenly there's a person who has no qualms about pinning their own sensei to the wall while he fires seemingly endless rounds into them. Suddenly there's someone who's given into despair. Suddenly there's someone there that isn't Peko Pekoyama.

Then he blinks, and she's there again, framed by the setting sun. Her braids fall over her shoulder and she tugs on the strap of her sword bag in a manner that's so Peko that he's relieved.

"Hey, Peko?" When she looks at him, he raises his hand and lays it over hers.

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome, Fuyuhiko-san."

 

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday ya nerd
> 
> kuzupeko is my otp??? I speed-wrote this again


End file.
